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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696688">Grey Riding Hood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_Thorns88/pseuds/Queen_of_Thorns88'>Queen_of_Thorns88</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Werewolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:36:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_Thorns88/pseuds/Queen_of_Thorns88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Red Riding Hood AU nobody asked for</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Arya Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jonrya Week: A Dream of Spring</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Grey Riding Hood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He stumbled upon the girl by accident. He thought no one dared to go that deep in the woods but this will be the first time of many that she’ll surprise him. Her grey cape is the first thing he notices. The sun shines so bright it makes it look like flowing silver. He listens to her hum “Wolves in the Hills” and for the first time in so long he finds himself smiling. He leaves before she sees him.</p>
<p>   The second time he decides to stay longer. It is exactly a week since the last time. He keeps his distance as she ventures deeper in the forest and watches her as she picks a single blue rose from the vast bushes that surround her. Most people would not content themselves with just one.</p>
<p>     It becomes his favorite obsession after only two months. Every seven days, she comes early in the morning, walks around the forest, eats her meal, stops to look at the flowers and then picks her rose and slowly and silently leaves again. He is always there in the shadows and he has come to admire her in more detail. The first time she lowered the hood of her cloak, he was immediately struck by her hair. It was in a single braid but he felt a deep compulsion to run his hand through it and mess it up. Even if he had, he knew it would still look beautiful. The first time he got a glimpse of her eyes he felt the wind knocked out of his body. Grey, like her cloak. Like his. He would think it a sign if he didn’t know himself as cursed. </p>
<p>   He tried to stay away and it only lasted a moon. The sweet irony. When his will broke, he was no longer content with watching her just for one day. When she left the forest, he followed. He thought she would go to Wintertown but like the first time he saw her, she didn’t do what he expected. For her house was on the edge of his domain. It was unfathomable that this lovely creature lived alone, so far away from people.</p>
<p>   Now that he knew where to look for her, he found himself watching over her every day. The first time he smelled her cooking the beast almost resurfaced, drooling. When he saw some children pass by, he stood mesmerized as he watched her interact with them so patiently and maternally. He also discovered the reason for the blue rose. Every seven days, as the sun set, she would leave it on the grave of Lord Stark. Even he, as isolated as he was, knew of the Northern Lord and how much he helped his subjects. Surely he had helped her too and for that he left a rose of his own.</p>
<p>   He was content to live the rest of his life watching her but he always underestimated her. The next day she broke her routine and entered the forest. He set off frowning and followed her deeper and deeper until she abruptly stopped, picked up two twigs and with a determined voice, turned around and asked “Do you want to spar with me?”</p>
<p>    He stopped breathing. Surely she wasn’t talking to him. He was always careful. </p>
<p>    “I know you are here. The first few times I thought it was my imagination but I can always feel your eyes on me. The rose only confirmed what I already knew. Please talk to me. I won’t hurt you”</p>
<p>  “And what makes you think <i>I</i> won’t hurt <i>you</i>?”</p>
<p>  “If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done so already” she scoffed.</p>
<p> She was right of course. He could kill hundreds of people but he would never hurt her. Reluctantly he stepped forward and stood in front of her. He watched as she took her time to observe him and breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled at him and gave him one of the twigs. He smiled back and accepted her gift.</p>
<p>  His world changed once again, now instead of admiring from afar, he did so in close proximity. He learned her name is Arya and it is as lovely as her. She was adamant on always sharing her food with him and he was equally as stubborn in bringing her game from his hunts. She never questioned the bite marks. He stayed out of sight when strangers came her way but other than that he never left her side. They would talk or stay silent, just enjoying each other.</p>
<p>   The past weeks had made him too content, too complacent. He should have been more careful. As they were walking towards her house, she turned at him smirking and asked “I’ll see you tonight then?”</p>
<p>   He froze into place. How was he supposed to explain to her that the stranger she befriended turned into a monstrous wolf every full moon? She would never want to see him again.</p>
<p>  “Has anyone ever told you that you look funny when you don’t know what to say?” she said laughing “It’s a full moon tonight so I thought we could run and hunt together. I usually stay away from your grounds because I didn’t know if you’d welcome the company so I contained myself in a different area.”</p>
<p>  <i>The gods would never be that good, would they?</i></p>
<p> “Are you cursed too?”</p>
<p> “You call it cursed, my father called it the wolf blood. It is said that everyone with Stark ancestry has the potential to turn into a wolf. It’s only a matter of how the coin will flip when we are born. My sister and brothers don’t have it. I do though and so did two of my father’s siblings.”</p>
<p>  “ You’re a Stark”</p>
<p>   “ So are you it seems”</p>
<p>  “Karstark”</p>
<p>  “Should I call you cousin?”</p>
<p>  “I would hope for something else”</p>
<p>  “Good" she grinned. “So, tonight?”</p>
<p>  “Tonight we run together”</p>
<p>  It was glorious. She was glorious. Her fur was as grey as her cloak and her eyes the dark golden of the setting sun. He feared his blood red eyes and white fur would scare her but the only thing he saw reflected on her gaze was admiration and lust. From that night on they were a true pack.</p>
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